


lips like a dream

by deliveryservice



Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: M/M, Post-Timeskip, so what if i wrote this instead of sleeping, wine and yearning and first kisses
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-04
Updated: 2020-10-04
Packaged: 2021-03-08 02:13:30
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 698
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26817898
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/deliveryservice/pseuds/deliveryservice
Summary: He’s saying things he wouldn’t say, but he’s two-and-a-half bottles into chardonnay; his tongue is loosened and he’s saying things that can never remain unsaid in the face of someone as captivating, as radiant as Shouyou; who laughs and sips and giggles into his flute, peering at Atsumu like he’s something special.Maybe Atsumu is something special.
Relationships: Hinata Shouyou/Miya Atsumu
Comments: 6
Kudos: 63





	lips like a dream

**Author's Note:**

> [atsumu yearns to this](https://open.spotify.com/track/3USxtqRwSYz57Ewm6wWRMp?si=omTo6r5FTqOAY8UgjrCJLA)
> 
> cw: alcohol/drinking

“Let me slip into a life less messy. Let me slip into your sleeve.”

— Ada Limón, from _The Noisiness of Sleep_

The first time Atsumu kisses Shouyou, they are giddy off joy and euphoria and too many bottles of white wine.

“I can’t believe I’m tossing for ‘ya,” Atsumu says. He is laughing and he is happy, yellow flecks yellow sunlight yellow dots of paint bursting in red insides. “This shit’s crazy, you know? I’ve always wanted to do that, and bam—opportunity straight into my lap!”

He’s saying things he wouldn’t say, but he’s two-and-a-half bottles into chardonnay; his tongue is loosened and he’s saying things that can never remain unsaid in the face of someone as captivating, as radiant as Shouyou; who laughs and sips and giggles into his flute, peering at Atsumu like he’s something special.

Maybe Atsumu is something special.

“I can’t believe it either,” Shouyou says; takes another sip of his wine, making a face like he hasn’t spent the last hour sitting with Atsumu, downing drinks and sharing stories and loosening their tongues. “Bokuto-san told me I was a shoo-in, but I was still nervous! Everyone was so good— did you see how they all went ‘BAAMM!’ and I went ‘PWOOSH!’?”

“You were better,” Atsumu says, almost immediately; he doesn’t take it back. “You were the best.” _I couldn’t see anyone else_.

Shouyou flushes, and it isn’t the alcohol. Atsumu memorizes how the pink is just several shades away from the vibrant sunrise orange of Shouyou’s hair. “Ah, really?” his breath hitches and his tongue fumbles; nearly stutters.

“Really,” Atsumu repeats, making sure he looks as dead serious as he feels. He’d seen no one else but Shouyou. (Has never seen anyone else but Shouyou.) “Just _what_ did you learn in Brazil?”

“Beach volleyball…?”

Atsumu waves Shouyou off with a laugh, shaking his head. His hair, artfully styled and nicely combed with gel, doesn’t brush his forehead. “Not _that_! What else did you learn? I want to know.” _I want to know what the others don’t,_ the words pool and flood his throat, so close to spilling out his mouth. _I want to know everything about you._

“Well, um.” Shouyou gains a look of concentration on his face, cheeks puffed and teeth gnawing on his lower lip. It’s the cutest shit Atsumu’s ever seen. “I picked up a new language and got some new life experiences… I guess?”

“No shit?” Atsumu says and takes one last sip of his drink. He doesn’t even taste the wine anymore (can he feel his mouth?), chardonnay going down easy in his mouth. “Say something sexy.”

It’s the wine loosening his tongue and lightening his head, sending a warm and fuzzy haze down his chest.

“Sexy?” Hiinata squeaks.

“Sexy,” Atsumu repeats. His grin is utterly shit-eating and annoying. "Or romantic. Sweep me off my feet—shit, I don't know. Something like that, y'know."

“Um.” Shouyou’s face goes from pink to flame red—Atsumu almost pities him. Almost. “Estou apaixonado por você.”

Atsumu’s knowledge of the language only goes as far as to knowing ‘te amo’: He has no idea what the fuck that just meant. “Um,” Atsumu echoes intelligently. “What does that mean?”

Shouyou looks at him dead in the eye.

Maybe it’s the wine, maybe it’s the atmosphere, maybe it’s the moon rising in the sky. Maybe it’s the smell of smoke and minty air freshener in the air, maybe it’s the humid ice on their tongues.

“It means I’m falling in love with you.”

Atsumu can’t remember who moves first. (Can’t remember—can’t think.) One moment he and Shouyou are two entirely separate things, sitting on opposite edges of a booth in a too-quiet too-empty too-loud too-crowded corner, looking at each other like the other’s something new and wondrous. The next he and Shouyou are Atsumu&Shouyou instead of Atsumu and Shouyou, Shouyou’s surged forward to meet Atsumu’s lips in a lazy wine-swirled kiss, warm tanned calloused soft warm fingers gripped tightly on the little crevice between his throat and his shoulders, touching his skin.

Shouyou tastes like him.

“Estou apaixonado por você,” Shouyou whispers against his lips.

Sunset orange is all Atsumu sees.

**Author's Note:**

> me, writing something under 1k? definitely a first
> 
> twt: [@genshinkaeya](https://twitter.com/genshinkaeya)


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